Imperfect Reality
by MistressOfRobins
Summary: It was a gift from Lucius Fox. One that should have been used to help the crime-fighting. A gift that would make training easier for the new Team Nightwing was in charge of. And yet, he chose to do something completely different with it. Something that changed everything. BirdFlash. One-shot.


_Because Season 2 makes me depressed.**  
**_

_Disclaimer: Young Justice - Not Mine._

_Rated: MA  
_

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**-Imperfect Reality-**

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When he opens his eyes and gazes into the room they're all gathered in the same place, in the lounge of the Mountain. The old team and the present team. Together.

Everyone's different. There's a happiness, lightness in the room that makes him feel warm inside. Mt. Justice is glowing.

Almost all of them are _laughing_. All right, maybe laughing was exaggerating it a bit. But it's not far from the truth.

Kaldur holds that well-known smile that indicates that he's enjoying himself. There's no undercover mission for him right now, no hurt that came with finding out who his biological father was. Because he's always known. Roy is leaning on him in a casual manner and he seems relaxed. There is no clone business here; he's the real Roy Harper, and he's been with them from the start as they fight together, cry together, _laugh_ together. He's chuckling. Something that hasn't been witnessed in a long, long time. At least not outside of here.

They're talking to Superboy. The Boy of Steel is leaning against the wall during their conversation. His guard is down, the scowl is gone, and his lips are tugged upwards as he speaks calmly. He's happy and he's changed. He's not stuck with the same outlook as a sixteen-year-old for the rest of his life. He's aging _outwardly_ – just like the rest of them. He looks good; like a miniature of Superman himself, and yet different. He's his own person.

M'gann is walking through the room, her hands held up as she steers various plates of food around. She's smiling again; she's the bubbly girl she used to be, carefree and eager to please, but she's not afraid. They all know her, they all know _what_ she is, but they also know that the green girl walking around serving them her treats is _who_ she is. No more secrets, no more fright.

Artemis is seated by Zatanna; they're in the couch as they have a conversation with Rocket. Artemis has dragged her feet up from the ground, and has pulled them to her chest while her head rests on her best friend's shoulder. She's smiling too. It's small and it almost seems a bit tired, but if one looks closely it's expressing how content she is. No more secrets. Everyone knows. And nobody cares of her past, because she is here, present time, being a hero, not anything near what her family is or used to be.

Tim, Gar, Bart and Billy are in a corner, leaning over the green skinned of them whose tongue is sticking out in pure concentration. Tim is being his usual self, already telling Gar how to _properly_ play the game, which grants him a small scowl from the shape-shifter. They're just kids in that corner. Tim is smiling again, laughing when Gar's frustrations makes themselves known. His little brother is… so happy.

Karen and Mal are in the sofa opposite of Artemis and Zatanna. They joined the conversation a minute ago, both listening and giving replies. As if they were a couple visiting and having coffee with another pair.

Cassie and Barbara are standing behind the green couches, backs turned to the rest of the crowd as they nudge each other from time to time, laughing, _teasing_. He loves the view. Seeing the old Barbara. The one he knew before she joined, before her face would constantly be marred with seriousness, and focus.

He turns and he can feel himself smiling when he hears that _laugh_. The one that outdoes everyone in the room. His stomach turns, his palms becomes rather sweaty and he smiles. He's with Blue Beetle in the kitchen area, both joking at one another, before it stops when green eyes lands on him. Right at him.

He feels warm when they softens, and can't help but chuckle when Jaime stick his tongue out at them and jumps down from the counter he's been sitting on. The Texan hits him playfully in the shoulder as he walks past him, murmuring teasing words in Spanish. He knows _he_ understands him… but not… him.

"Took you long enough to get here." His voice makes his shoulders slump whilst he walks up to him.

"Traffic," he says, playfully putting his elbow against the green eyed man's shoulder. Not done in a harsh way, of course. Despite the fact that the bruises always heals due to super speed doesn't mean he has to intentionally give him more. In their field of work they have enough of them already.

Green eyes glances at their teammates, taking in the atmosphere, the _happiness_ in the room. Then they direct themselves to him again and all he can do is admire how his lips stretch into a content smile. "Come." A strong, fair-skinned hand reaches out, and takes his. He's winking at him. "They're cool. Let's go somewhere private."

He doesn't protest. He lets him lead them out and into the corridor. They walk silently but it's so comfortable, so _perfect_. Nothing awkward. Just _perfection_. Then they stop in front of a door. _His_ room, because he has the best security, and it's soundproof too. He chuckles and knows that whenever they passes the one belonging to the other it means the older male's in a good mood. It just so happens, that he is as well.

"After you," he murmurs. A smirk, and then he complies. He types in the code, and the door swishes open. It's clean, tidy. Just like always. "I swear, Dick, it feels like Alf comes into you room to clean up while no one is looking."

The way he says his name makes him turn. It's done so tenderly, more than usual.

He stays perfectly still and doesn't answer the question. Instead he chuckles warmly when strong arms wraps around him from behind. He turns, smiles and then meets the lips that comes for his own.

Kissing someone when only your head is turned can be rather painful, and despite the fact that he's flexible most places on his body, the neck is not all that trained. He therefore pulls away shortly after, but the linger of those lips is still there, comforting him, making him _happy_.

Dick fully turns, his strong arms folding themselves around the other male's neck. Then he leans a _bit_ upwards; not much, but a bit to claim his mouth once more. As the kiss deepens, the lips moving from mouths, to cheeks, to neck, to various other places on each other's faces, he remembers when he had to stand on his tip-toes to reach him. Things have changed. They've grown. Grown up together.

Abruptly, he's being shoved down onto the bed, and he laughs, happy sounds echoing throughout the room. "Wally," he whispers, hands coming up to touch the other man's face, thumb stroking his cheek tenderly. The redhead returns the smile and leans down, kisses him again, softly, _lovingly_.

Then his hand grips his shirt, yanking. Dick can only chuckle as he raises his hands and lets his lover tug them all the way off, leaving his chest exposed. Wally then removes his own, and his hand instantly comes up to touch the redhead's chest, fingers ghosting over the firm abs, the _warmth_ emitting from the speedster's skin.

Lips comes crashing once more. This time more passionate, and lustful. Dick meets them, tongue forcing its way into Wally's mouth to explore the warmth that lies inside. He grips him closer, prompts him down so that their chests touch, making him feel complete, and satisfied.

Satisfaction don't last long, however. He wants more. For each suck of lips, each mark findings its way on their exposed bodies, he can feel his growing need. He moans out his name, clutches Wally to him, lips moving everywhere they can touch as long as he can savour the wonderful body, the one of Wally West.

"W-Wallly," he whispers. "Pants. Off. Now."

Another laugh. He can't describe what it does to him, hearing him _laugh_, hearing how _happy_ he is being _with him_. Just them. Just the two of them like it always was, like it always was _supposed_ to be.

Perfect.

His mind is one blur of touches, of lips and pleasure, whimpers and groans. He barely registers that only seconds after his demand they're completely naked. Exposed and vulnerable for one another. He moans out the speedster's name as his hand grabs his cock, squeezing, fondling and pumping.

"Dick," he whispers, his husky breath connecting with his ear. A shiver run down his spine and he grabs Wally's cheeks, leading him to his lips. The kiss is moist, and desperate as they suck on each other's lower lips. One at a time. Perfectly in-sync.

Then the hand leaves his manhood and he groans, but he knows what they need. What they _want_. He hears the pop of the tube in his slightly dazed state, hears the sound of Wally coating his fingers and then they're against his hole. He throws his head back, moans again. It's painful, but the lips eases everything.

They're everywhere. On his chest, on his mouth, on his neck, on his thigh, and all fast enough for him to never feel they're not there. He loves it when Wally uses his powers during their love-making; it's one of his… guilty pleasures, if one can call it that.

"Wally…" The name is uttered in an attempt to get his lover's full attention. He's inside him now, softly moving back and forth, in and out. It's no longer desperate. It's tender, and sweet, each movement makes Dick's heart leap.

The redhead leans over him, takes his lips again as he's done so may times before, but there's a tenderness in there he knows only comes when they reach this point. When the sex isn't rushed, when they don't try to get dirty and try various stuff that always makes them breathless for lengthy minutes afterwards.

Dick loves these kisses. He loves when Wally is moving inside him, completing him in ways he could've never imagined he would. It reminds him that he's loved. That Wally truly and utterly _loves him_.

"Yeah…?" Wally responds quietly, sweat prickling down his forehead as he goes deeper inside. Dick groans, and his hands reaches out, wrapping themselves around the older man's shoulders so he can hoist himself up and move against him in his lap. They moan at the change of position, but it's easier this way.

"I love you."

And he means it.

He can feel a slight vibration and he whimpers again, gasps and wriggles within the older-male's lap as a loving mouth meets his. He sighs loudly into the kiss, his grip tightening as Wally picks up speed, pushing into him with more force. Then, when they part, Wally puts his lips to his left ear saying: "I love you too."

Dick's responds by instantly going for his neck. He bites, nibbles and feels Wally shudder against him, the speed increasing even further. Soon he's against the mattress again, the softness and slowness turned to need for release, turned to _desperation_. "Wally!" he screams into the room.

No one can hear them anyway. This is all theirs.

Wally's utter of his name is just as loud as he plums into him fast, _fast, fast_. It's too much. Dick can only squirm and wriggle against the older male's touch, before he climaxes, the load hitting Wally's stomach. It doesn't take much before Wally submits to it either. He rides out the orgasm till they're both limp and exhausted.

A layer of sweat noticeably covers their forms, their cheeks are flushed, and their eyes soft, _tired_.

Gently, Wally pulls out of the warm heat, enjoying the slight sound coming from Dick as he does. Then he lies down beside him. Dick's arms are around him milliseconds afterwards. The brunet's face buries into his chest, and Wally snickers. "You okay, babe?" he asks, arms enveloping the other male in return.

"Yeah…" Dick closes his eyes, arms desperately gripping the redhead as if he's afraid he'll disappear. "… You think the others will care if we just lie here?"

"Nah…" Wally kisses his mop of moist hair and pushes some of the black bangs out of his eyes to look down at him. Dick likes it when he can feel the green eyes bore into him; he feels like he's being admired. "… Stay with me forever?"

It's cheesy and it makes Dick snicker. He looks up, dark blue eyes meeting green. Briefly he wonders where his shades went, but decides not to dwell on it. If they're broken – which they might as well be; it wouldn't be the first time Wally broke them – he'll just get a new pair. Besides, Tim has backups he can borrow.

"You're a sap," Dick muses as he kisses the corner of Wally's smiling lips. "But sure. I've got nothing better to do."

And the laughter returns. Wally's laughter. Wally's smile. _Wally_ just _loving him_.

Everything's perfect.

So perfect...

-o-

_**Session limit reached. Time: four hours, thirty two minutes and fifteen seconds. Repeating, session limit reached. Nightwing, B01 – dismissed. Officially preparing sequence shut down.**_

-o-

When his eyes opens they're resting on the ceiling. As usual it takes about two minutes before his sight is perfect again. Those are long two minutes where his vision is lightly swaying and the blue light above his head is teasing and taunting him, leaving him to his thoughts, and the emptiness that now follows.

Slowly, when his eyes can see clearly once more, he sits up. He throws a glance at the alarm clock and lets out a slight sigh. Only 4 AM. He wouldn't have to get up anytime soon. He wants to beat himself from using up the session time for today when he still has at least two more hours where he should've been sleeping.

He shouldn't have used it later today, but he couldn't help it. After sending Artemis out there, after seeing him walk away from him, the same cold scowl he never got used to planted on his face… Returning to his own world had just been something he _needed_.

Gingerly he reaches out and pushes the off button of the small, dark box. It makes a light sound, before the neon blue light disappears, leaving him in darkness. It was a nice gift from Lucius Fox, intended for the same kind of mission exercises they'd had when Miss M's powers had taken control. It's a safe, new technology. One that will let one person create a virtual world of their own if they don the monitor headband. Naturally, there are more headbands in his closet for other people to enter the exercise.

After removing said headband, Dick drops, the back of his head hitting the pillow. A small, lonely tear falls from the corner of his eye as he hesitantly draws the duvet further up to cover himself. He made a replica of the one Lucius Fox had given him. He knew it was wrong and yet he'd done it. The temptation had been too great.

The first box currently lies in Mount Justice, while the second is right by his bedside. For three years he's used it. Always takes care of it, always makes sure it's in top condition. Because now, it's the only way he can sleep, only way he can cope. It's his shelter. When he's in his own world, where everything is as _perfect_ as it _could_ be, nothing hurts anymore.

But, the thing is, he always has to return. Return to reality.

A reality where his friendship with Wally is dying for each day, a reality where he's retired, where he no longer finds any pleasure in running; something that used to be what he _lived_ for. A reality where Dick cares about Artemis, but can never really forgive her for something she doesn't even know hurt him.

A reality where his family is quiet and serious. Where Tim forgets how to be a child, where Barbara is no longer the same, and where Bruce distances himself everyday.

A reality where Roy is plagued by guilt for being a clone with no real want to live, a reality where Conner never ages, where he's unhappy; where M'gann is no longer the same girl she used to be, where her eyes are emotionless, and sad.

A reality where Zatanna and Rocket are no longer with them; where Kaldur is believed to be a traitor, where Dick must stay on the sidelines, watching it all unfold.

A reality where Wally doesn't love him. Not like he loves _him_, and he never will.

A reality where nothing turned out the way he'd hoped – _wished_ – for them to.

An imperfect, painful reality. One he can't help but wonder would be best to just leave. For good.

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_You can interpret the last part as you want, but my thoughts are that Nightwing got so obsessed by his own perfect world that in the end he couldn't bare the reality he had to face everyday, thus he took his own life. I know, depressing, but please review anyway? Thank you!_

_- MistressOfRobins  
_


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